


Radio Drama

by Xingshou



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor is a terrible patient, Angel is so done, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mention of blood, radiodust - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:47:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29056923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xingshou/pseuds/Xingshou
Summary: Angel helps an injured Alastor after a fight with Vox. Too bad the Radio Demon is a terrible patient.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 131





	Radio Drama

Angel Dust yawned as he scooped the last of the bills off the dance floor. It had been a pretty good night and he’d made some pretty good money all the way up to closing hours. 

The audience was gone now, which he was grateful for – he was exhausted, and all he wanted to do was dump off Val’s cut and get back home to the hotel. He didn’t need some john trying to solicit him at four a.m. 

He stuck all the money into his chest fluff and turned for the stage door, pausing when the lights suddenly dimmed for a second. He frowned curiously, going to inspect one of the stage lights when they all suddenly rose in brightness and then shattered simultaneously, showering him in sparks and glass. 

“What the fuck?!” Angel leapt back, brushing the sparks out of his hair. He reached for his phone to use the flashlight on it, frowning when the screen fizzled and died. He was sure he’d had it fully charged, and usually VoxTech didn’t die so suddenly… not unless Vox was occupied with something that took all of his concentration. 

Angel groped his way to the stage door, a little distressed to see that the lights in the hallway had all busted as well, glass littering the floor beneath them. Whatever was going on, it seemed like it might be serious. If he had a better sense of self preservation, he would’ve just gotten out of there and gotten the money to the Val later… but he knew he had the self preservation of a lemming, and he wanted to find out what was causing Vox to suddenly be all pissy. 

He found his way to one of the exits leading to the upstairs area, blindly climbing the stairs. Once he got to the second level, he was relieved to see soft emergency lights glowing on the floor, so he could actually see where he was going. He stuck his head into Valentino’s office, but it was empty – Val’s coat was hung up on the chair behind his desk, though, so the moth was obviously still here somewhere. Angel left the money on Val’s desk and turned left out of the office, down a hallway that had rooms mostly used for storage and sometimes auditions. 

Angel could feel his fur rising, like the entire hallway was full of static electricity. A door banged open, and the spider scrambled to duck into a storage room as Valentino and Vox stepped out. 

“-Don’t know why you don’t just finish him now,” Valentino was saying. 

A crackle of irritation sounded from Vox’s speakers. “Do I look like an angel to you? Besides, that’s not how I do things. I need to stop home for a little bit – just make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.” 

“So now you’re givin’ me orders?” 

“For fuck’s sake, Val!” 

Angel waited until the argument faded away down the corner, then scurried down the hall to the door they’d come out of, pulling it open and slipping inside. 

The room was dark, and Angel squinted as he tried to make out what the dark mass on the floor in front of him was. He found a light switch, flipping it on, his eyes widening. 

The form was Alastor. Laid curled up in the corner, blood dripping from his mouth, one arm protectively around his ribcage, and barely breathing. 

“Ah, oh, fuck,” Angel said, glancing back at the door. If Vox or Val came back to check on Alastor and found Angel here, he was dead with a capital D. He crouched next to the deer, a hesitant hand above his shoulder. He knew the guy didn’t like being touched, but surely this was an extenuating circumstance? 

Angel growled a little in frustration as Alastor’s shadow flitted anxiously around him, trying to bat it away. “Stop that! I’m figurin’ it out, ya weird… sentient shadow thing. Al? Hey, Al? Can ya hear me?” 

There was no answer except shallow breathing. Well, that wasn’t good. With how powerful Alastor was supposed to be, Vox must have done a major number on him. 

“Right, don’t say I don’t ever do nothin’ for ya,” Angel muttered, crouching down to pull one of Alastor’s arms over his shoulder so he could get him to his feet. He had to stay uncomfortably hunched over due to their height difference, and he hadn’t even considered how he was going to get them home. It wasn’t like he could just teleport like Alastor could. 

Alastor did seem to come to a little at the motion, letting out a soft moan. 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s good, Al,” Angel encouraged. “Now see if ya can put weight on ya feet. Al? Shit.” Alastor was out of it again. “What do I gotta do, piggyback ya back to the hotel? Damn.” 

As carefully as he could, Angel half-walked half-dragged Alastor over to the door, peeking his head out to make sure the coast was clear. No sign of Val or Vox – now he just had to get him out of the studio without being seen, across town without being seen by the wrong people, and back into the hotel without being seen by Charlie or Vaggie who would just freak out. Piece of cake. Yeah, right. At least it was late enough that most demons would be asleep. At least, he hoped so. You never could tell in Hell. 

“Couldn’t ya shadow move ya feet for ya or somethin’?” Angel complained as he maneuvered Alastor down the hallway. He froze as a familiar voice sounded around the corner – Val, talking on his phone. 

“Shit, shit, shit….” Angel kicked open one of the storage room doors, unceremoniously dumping Alastor into it and shutting the door right as Valentino came around the corner.

Val paused in his phone conversation, raising an eyebrow. “Angel? What are you doing here?” 

“Just… heard a weird noise, boss,” Angel said, “Thought I’d see what it was.” 

“You know better than to stick your nose where it don’t belong, baby,” Val said. “Did you get my money?” 

“Yessir, it’s on your desk.” 

“Good. Then you’re done for the night, get outta here.” Someone crackled on the other end of Val’s phone, and the moth’s face drew into an irritated scowl as he swooped away to deal with it. 

Angel let out a relieved sigh and opened the door again, “Sorry ‘bout that, Al… c’mon, let’s getcha outta here.” 

Somehow, Angel made it out of the studio without being seen by anyone else. Vox was sure to be pissed when he came back and found Alastor gone, but he’d deal with that later. If he was lucky, the TV Demon would just assume Alastor came to his senses and teleported away. 

With that in mind and with Alastor like a weight hanging off him as he tried to support the Radio Demon’s weight in his hunched over position, he began the long, slow trek back to the hotel. 

\--- 

“Fuck, which one is ya room again?” 

By some miracle, Angel had gotten them both back to the hotel without much incident. His back was in agony from all the slouching, though, and he couldn’t wait to dump Alastor so he could at least straighten up. The only problem was, he couldn’t remember which one was Alastor’s room – he knew he was on the right floor, but all the doors looked the same. 

“Right, fuck this,” Angel said after a few minutes of trying door handles. “You’ll just have ta suffer in my room, I guess.” 

After some more struggling up some more stairs – fuck, why did this place have so many stairs?! – Angel finally made it to his own room. He gently nudged a curiously snuffling Fat Nuggets away from them with a boot. “Nuggies, no. Go lay down in ya basket.” 

Angel dumped Alastor on his bed, groaning as he stretched and cracked his back. “Damn. Ya heavy for such a skinny little guy. Alright, now let’s see what Vox did to ya…” 

Alastor had seemed to be holding his ribs protectively when Angel found him, so Angel decided to start there. As soon as his fingers brushed Alastor’s side, though, several black shadows shot out from Alastor, wrapping around Angel and lifting him off his feet. 

“Whoa, hey, hey!” Angel squirmed, kicking as the shadowy tendrils slammed him into the wall. “Al! Wake up, ya goddamn psycho!” 

Alastor sat straight up, almost as if on a spring, his eyes turning to radio dials as sigils danced around him. He faced Angel, unseeing. 

“Alastor!” Angel tried again, his voice growing a bit more desperate as the shadows squeezed tighter. “Please!” 

Without warning, the shadows disappeared, dropping Angel hard on the ground as Alastor’s eyes returned to normal, a hand going to his head. “What on earth…” 

“Welcome back, Smiles,” Angel grunted, pulling himself up to his feet again, checking to make sure nothing was bruised or broken. “What a way ta thank a guy.” 

Alastor looked around, suddenly seeming to realize he wasn’t in his own room, but in Angel’s. His ears pinned back, which, if Angel hadn’t been so annoyed, he might’ve found cute. 

“I must go.” Alastor moved to get up, to which Angel shook his head and pushed him back down into the pillows. 

“Uh uh, I don’t think so, Al,” Angel said. “Ya were coughin’ blood and looked like ya were about die a second ago, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.” 

Alastor looked irritated, his usual radio hum becoming a high-pitched whine. Angel hadn’t even noticed its absence while Alastor was unconscious, but now he was unavoidably aware of it. 

“Look, I’m not gonna do anythin’ weird wit’ ya,” Angel said. “I just couldn’t find ya room and this was easier. Relax, would ya?” 

Alastor watched suspiciously as Angel moved across the room, pulling a pill bottle from one of the drawers and dumping two into his hand, offering them to Alastor. “Here.” 

“Ha!” Alastor’s brows raised, “As if I would fall into the self-medication vices of some junkie –“ 

“It’s fuckin’ Tylenol, ya goddamn freak,” Angel said, shoving them into Alastor’s hand. “It’ll help the swelling go down, dummy.” 

Angel watched as Alastor eyed the pills suspiciously, then seemed to shrug and popped them into his mouth. He watched, his body tensing up, as Angel sat on the edge of the bed. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m a foot away from ya,” Angel said. “Ya really so bent up about me bein’ this close? I ain’t gonna touch ya if ya don’t want me to, although I might have to if we wanna get those ribs taken care of.” 

“I can address them myself.” 

“Uh huh.” Angel folded his arms, “I know a thing or two ‘bout broken ribs, it’s always easier if ya got someone ta help out, even just wrappin’ the bandages an’ stuff. An’ ya may as well just let me do it, I’m gonna keep buggin’ ya ‘til ya do.” 

Another screech of feedback, a narrow of the eyes, but after a moment, Alastor let out an annoyed sigh. “Very well. If you must.” 

“Oh, I must,” Angel said, getting up and grabbing a first aid kit from the top of his dresser. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the touchin’ to a minimum. Roll over on ya front.” 

Grumbling to himself, Alastor did so, pillowing his head on his arms. 

“Good,” Angel said, pulling a roll of bandages out from the kit, “Now pull up your shirt.” 

The resulting screech of static was so sharp it set Angel’s teeth on edge. “Hey! Hey! Relax, weirdo, I swear I ain’t gonna do anythin’ bad! I just can’t reach through ya damn shirt.” 

“This was a failure of an idea,” Alastor said, pushing himself up unsteadily on all fours and crawling to the end of the bed, “I will deal with my injuries in my own room, unattended.” He slid off the bed, but his legs buckled under him and he face planted straight into Angel’s pink carpet. “Damn.” 

Angel put his hands on his hips, his upper arms crossing over his chest. “Now are ya gonna stop bein’ an idiot and lemme help ya?” 

“Only if you help me back to my room and then subsequently leave me alone.” 

“No dice, Smiles.” 

“Then we are at an impasse.” 

Angel rolled his eyes. “Why the fuck d’ya gotta be so difficult? It’s ten minutes, twenty tops, of touchin’, and not even the fun kind!” 

“Hngrhg…” 

“Well if ya don’t want my help gettin’ back on the bed, can ya shadow help ya or somethin’?” 

In response, Alastor flicked a hand, and several of the shadowy tendrils that had held Angel captive just a moment ago moved under him, scooping him back onto the bed. 

“It’s a start, I guess,” Angel sighed. “Look, I don’t wanna make ya uncomfortable, but the sooner we deal with this, the sooner it’ll be over, ya know?” 

“Yes, yes, get on with it then,” Alastor said, lifting his shirt halfway up, closing his eyes and looking away. 

Angel couldn’t help but laugh a little. “What’re ya doin’?” 

Alastor opened one eye to glance back at him, “Preparing myself.” 

Angel bit back the smart retort at that, “This ain’t a torture session, just so ya know. I charge a lot for those.” 

“Hilarious, Angel.” 

“Alright, let’s see what we’re workin’ with here…” 

As expected, there was quite a bit of bruising and lumps around the ribcage area – nothing Angel hadn’t dealt with before. He grimaced as his eyes traveled up the bare bit of back he could see – a lot more bruising, and a lot more electrical burns. If he wasn’t mistaken, he could see quite a few more bruises around the Radio Demon’s throat – almost like someone had tried to garrote him with a thick cable. 

“So,” Angel said casually as he began wrapping the bandages around Alastor’s middle, “Fightin’ with Vox?” 

“More like ambushed by Vox,” Alastor grumbled. “That pathetic electronic nuisance has no idea of the proper rules of a duel.” 

“Yeah, he doesn’t exactly seem like the type ta give ya ten paces,” Angel snickered. He grew more serious, “But you’re the ‘all-powerful Radio Demon.’ I’d think even in an ambush Vox would be pretty evenly matched with ya, but it looks like he beat the crap outta ya. What gives?” 

Alastor’s claws gripping the sheets were the only indication of his discomfort as he spoke. “Sometimes… if my personal space is violated too fast and too suddenly, I can become… overwhelmed. It seems Vox discovered this small weakness and exploited it.” 

Angel bit his lip as he secured the bandages around Alastor’s ribs. “That sucks. I’m sorry.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Alastor said. “Had you not come along I suppose I would still be at his mercy.” 

“Still though,” Angel said, “If anyone knows what it’s like to have personal space violated, it’s me.” 

Alastor hummed, closing his eyes as Angel quickly worked to deal with the burns on his back. “Will you find yourself in trouble for helping me?” 

“Dunno,” Angel said. “Hopefully not. I don’t think there’s any security cameras in that bit of the hallway – if I’m lucky Vox’ll just think ya left on your own an’ blame Val. If there are… I’ll deal with it if it comes down to it.” 

They fell silent for a few moments, Angel concentrating on his work. 

“Okay, I think I’m done, Al,” Angel said. There was no answer, and Angel cocked his head. “Al?” Moving around to his front, Angel raised an eyebrow as he saw Alastor’s head was dropped against his chest, the deer fast asleep. 

“Huh…” A rattle by his feet caught his attention – Fat Nuggets had the pill bottle in his mouth. “Nuggies, no! Bad pig! Don’t put daddy’s drugs in your mouth.” Angel bent down, pulling the bottle out of the pig’s mouth, glancing at it, doing a double take when he glanced at the label. “Oops… ah well, a double dose of Benadryl instead a’ Tylenol won’t hurt him, right, Nuggs? Probl’y needs the sleep anyway.” 

Angel put his hands on his hips, surveying the bed, suddenly feeling just how tired he was. It had been a long ass night, and dawn was only an hour or two away. He had to get some sleep, but he didn’t want to wake Alastor to get him to move when it had been such a struggle to get him to stay in the first place. 

Carefully, Angel pushed Alastor so he was laying down, tucking his feet up and covering him with a blanket. There was no shortage of pillows in Angel’s room, and he used some of them to build a fluffy wall of sorts between him and Alastor, so there was no chance of him rolling over and clinging to the Radio Demon in his sleep. The last thing he wanted to do was to be strangled to death by tentacles because he’d freaked Alastor out in the middle of the night. 

That done, Angel crawled into bed, lulled to sleep by the white noise of the radio static. 

\---- 

The next morning, Angel woke to find Alastor gone, his side of the bed neatly made. 

“Hmmph. Never even said thank you, Nuggs,” Angel said, picking up his pig to give his belly some scratches. “What a jerk.” 

Alastor made himself scarce the entire day – Charlie even asked Angel if he’d seen him, but all Angel could do was shake his head. He suspected the Radio Demon had probably retreated to his room to lick his wounds and plot revenge against Vox. 

Angel went about his day, the memories of the previous night with Alastor fading to the back of his mind as he dealt with the usual day to day stuff of being a stripper in Hell. If Al wasn’t going to mention it, then neither would he. 

So, when he returned back to his room that night, he was surprised to find a bouquet of roses on the bed, alongside a small jar of cherries for Fat Nuggets and a small delicately wrapped box of chocolates for him. He plucked the card off it, flipping it open to read the two words in Alastor’s curling handwriting. 

_Thank You._

**Author's Note:**

> For those who don't know, Tylenol is just a general painkiller whereas Benadryl will knock someone out pretty fast... at least it knocks me out pretty fast LOL.  
> I thought it would be interesting to write a hurt/comfort story where it was Alastor who was the one who got hurt, but we all know he'd be a terrible patient and a dick about it.


End file.
